After all, it's merely an Acquired sword body—even an Innate sacred physique would be blown apart by such overwhelming power of the ancestral source!
Thinking left and right.
There is no other way.
Facing the ghost creatures rushing from all directions, Bazhun'an's eyes narrowed, filled with murderous intent.
In his heart, there's only one answer:
Blow them all up!
"Sizzle~"
The plump white-faced ghost drooled with a long fleshy tongue, eyes gleaming with a green luster, and a face full of desire, charging forward.
That hungry expression seemed to say... give it to me, just one drop Bazhun'an, just one drop is enough.
"Boom."
Bazhun'an pointed a finger, a ripple spreading from his fingertip.
The large lump of flesh ahead exploded into chunks, unable even to scream, the hunger halted by the finger.
As for the trace of ancestral source power within it, it was crushed into dust by sword cognition, turning into a black miasma, sinking down.
"Ssshss..."
